


On Broken Wings I'm Falling

by vulcanarmr



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angel Wings, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Broken Castiel (Supernatural), Canon Compliant, Castiel Has Feelings for Dean Winchester, Castiel Has Issues (Supernatural), Castiel Has Self-Esteem Issues (Supernatural), Castiel Has Self-Worth Issues (Supernatural), Castiel Loves Dean Winchester, Castiel is Bad at Feelings (Supernatural), Castiel is Not Okay (Supernatural), Castiel's Loss of Angelic Grace (Supernatural), Coda, Damaged Castiel (Supernatural), Dean Winchester Comforts Castiel, Dean Winchester Has Anger Issues, Dean Winchester Loves Castiel, Depressed Castiel (Supernatural), Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Hurt Castiel (Supernatural), Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Kinda, POV Castiel (Supernatural), Post-Episode: s15e09 The Trap, Post-Episode: s15e13 Destiny's Child, Sad Castiel (Supernatural), Season/Series 15, Some Fluff, The Author Regrets Nothing, but he doesn't say it, ish, it takes place sometime in season fifteen, mostly - Freeform, oh boy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-04
Updated: 2020-08-04
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:53:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25701646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vulcanarmr/pseuds/vulcanarmr
Summary: Castiel thinks he's useless now that he's losing his angelic abilites.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 15
Kudos: 233





	On Broken Wings I'm Falling

**Author's Note:**

> i got this idea from a post i saw talking about what Cas' wings look like since they're broken, and (of course) i decided to write an angsty fic. this is one of the first things i've written from Cas' pov, i usually write from Dean's, but i think it turned out pretty good so here we go. title from broken wings by alter bridge.

Castiel can see the demons’ true faces. Humans don’t recognize them until they see the black eyes or the reaction to holy water. Castiel sees it immediately. He can see humans’ souls. It is more difficult than seeing demons. To see a human’s soul, he has to look into their eyes. The easiest thing, however, that he can see are the angels. He can see their faces, and he can see their wings. He can see his own wings, as well. Every time he passes by a mirror, by a clean window, by any reflective surface, he sees himself, and he sees his wings. Broken and tattered. They are a constant reminder of what he already knows. Of what everything he has seen seems to have told him.

He is broken.

He is a problem.

No one cares.

_And no one should._

Castiel doesn’t think this. He knows it. And because he knows it, he knows that The Empty will never have him. He is too broken to be happy. Everything points to it, no matter how hard he tries to change himself. He remembers every person, every action, every little thing that proves this. He remembers Dean’s words from years ago. The ones that helped him realize the truth.

_‘Nobody cares that you’re broken, Cas. Clean up your mess!’_

He remembers Dean’s more recent words. The ones that confirmed it to him yet again.

_‘Why does that something always seem to be you?’_

He tries to change still. He isn’t quite sure why. Perhaps Dean’s apology and forgiveness have given him hope, however small it may be. Perhaps he wants to try and make things right one last time. To help defeat Chuck. To end this. Perhaps if he tries hard enough, it will work. He’ll be less broken. Just a little. Whatever the reason, he still tries. Most of the time. Because there are times he can’t stand to look at himself. Times he loses all hope. There are times he wishes he had killed himself long ago, when he had said to Dean that he might. Maybe things would have been better then. He wouldn’t have made as many mistakes as he has, been the cause of so much hurt. He wouldn’t be a problem. But he refuses to die yet. If he is going to die, it needs to be for a reason. A good reason. Not his own self pity. Hating himself is not a good enough reason to die. At least, not in his case. If he’s going to die, it’s going to be to save his family, or to do something useful. To try and redeem himself.

Castiel sighs softly, shifting slightly on the bed of Room 15 in the Bunker. The room that he stays in, but that he doesn’t want to call his. He stares up blankly at the ceiling, lying on his back against the mattress. It’s late, and everyone is either sleeping or at the very least in their room at the moment. Castiel is alone. And he is glad he is, because it’s one of those nights where he can barely think of himself without feeling wrong.

_Sick._

But, in light of the fact that he hates himself, he finds that he is soon sitting up. He slides over the bed until the soles of his shoes hit the floor with a dull thud, and he inhales slowly, before standing. He starts towards the door, then pausing, deciding the sound of his feet against the ground is too loud. He bends down, slowly, almost sluggishly, to pull his shoes from his feet. He sets them aside gently, before soundlessly making his way out of Room 15 and towards the Bunker’s restroom. All the while, he focuses on Dean’s words in his head, because he knows that there is no point in trying to ignore them. In times like this, they’re always far too prominent.

He closes and locks the door once he is in the bathroom, and he exhales softly. His legs carry him to stand in front of the mirror, before he takes a step back. His breath feels caught, and for a moment he forgets he doesn’t need to breathe. He simply stares at his reflection. At his wings. He can see them so clearly. They look worse now than they did years ago when they had first broken. He suspects that as his abilities weaken, as his grace dims, so will his wings. He shudders just slightly at the thought, and he shuts his eyes momentarily. Why he has held onto hope that this is temporary for so long, he doesn’t know. He can’t fix this. He can’t change himself. He is broken. In every way.

He slowly undoes his tie, letting it hang on either side of his neck once he’s done. His fingers then move to undo the buttons of his shirt, still slowly, because every movement feels like he’s stuck in quicksand. Stuck and unable to get out. As he undoes the last button, he opens his eyes and looks at himself in the mirror again, forcing himself to not look away. No matter how much he hates what he sees. And he _does_ hate what he sees.

Himself.

Himself and his torn wings.

A feather falls lightly from Castiel’s left wing to the ground. No one but him can see it, but he picks it up and tucks it away in his coat pocket all the same. And then he looks back at the mirror, slowly shrugging his shirt and coat off his shoulders and turning so his back and the area where his wings connect to it are visible in the reflective glass. He wants to close his eyes the moment he turns, but he refuses to. He simply looks. He looks at the disheveled feathers. He looks at the gaps where feathers are gone. He looks at the way their colour has gone from shiny black to muted, dark brown. Like an animal suffering from malnutrition. They scream ‘broken’. And Dean’s words scream ‘broken’. And all of it screams ‘broken, broken, _broken’._

Castiel finally allows himself to tear his eyes away, instead averting his gaze to the floor. He fights back the instinct to wrap his wings around himself. Something that used to be comforting when they weren’t in this condition. His eyes sting. He doesn’t cry. He just stares. He stares for a long time. He doesn’t keep count of how long. He would probably stare all night if there wasn’t suddenly someone knocking on the door. Castiel looks at the door, pulling his shirt and coat over his shoulders again as he moves over and unlocks it. He inhales deeply, before turning the handle and letting the door fall open. “Hello, Dean,” he says softly, trying to hide his distress from moments earlier. It isn’t difficult. He does it often. Dean looks up, slowly, like he is scanning every inch of Castiel, who is suddenly hyper aware of the skin of his torso being exposed. He tries to ignore that. Tired green eyes meet Castiel’s own after a moment.

“Hey, buddy…” Dean says, his voice sounding almost hesitant. Castiel blinks, looking away.

“It’s late. I thought you’d be asleep.” 

Dean laughs slightly, and Castiel looks at him again. “Yeah, no.” Dean looks down, shaking his head a bit. “Couldn’t sleep. Had to go to the bathroom.” He meets Castiel’s eyes again, and if Castiel’s heart worked the same as humans’, it would have stopped. Perhaps it does, all the same.

“There’s another bathroom in the Bunker, Dean,” Castiel deadpans. Dean rolls his eyes.

“Yeah, I know, I live here. I was just…” He sighs. “Look, Cas, things are weird right now, and you’ve been in there a while, and I guess I was just...” He trails off, pursing his lips slightly. Castiel looks away once more.

“I’m fine.” He pauses. “I was taking a shower.”

Dean’s hand is on his arm a moment later. “Are you doin’ okay?”

“I think I just said I’m fine.” He tries to pour as much sarcasm as he can into the words. Dean doesn’t move his hand away. If anything, it seems to tighten slightly around Castiel’s arm. Castiel hates it and loves it at the same time.

“Your hair’s dry and the shower wasn’t on earlier.”

Castiel takes a step back, out of Dean’s reach. “I’m fine, Dean.”

“Oh, what, really? ‘Cause it doesn’t really seem like it.” The words sound harsh. Castiel shakes his head slightly, sighing. Dean is angry again. And at the moment, Castiel knows it makes sense. Humans get angry and frustrated when things don’t work right.

“I’m sorry.” He says the words before he can stop himself. Part of him tells him he shouldn’t be apologizing. But everything is still screaming broken.

“The hell are you sorry for?” The words are still harsh, but less so than a moment ago. Castiel forces himself to meet Dean’s eyes. The same way he forced himself to look at his wings. At every reminder of his dysfunction. 

“I’m sorry that I’m not of more use to you,” he finally says, and he means for it to sound sarcastic or joking. He knows that Dean uses humour to hide behind. Maybe he can do the same. It doesn’t work. Dean’s features soften.

“Wh…” He takes a small step closer. “Cas, what are you talking about?”

Castiel shakes his head, not wanting to say another word. He has said too much already. He shouldn’t tell Dean about this. He will only make matters worse. “My powers are dissipating. I don’t exactly know why. But without them, I’m practically useless.” The words once again come before he can stop them. “I wasn’t going to tell you,” he adds under his breath. Dean says nothing for a long moment.

“Why didn’t you say something?” he says at last. Castiel shakes his head.

“I was being selfish,” he admits. He keeps his voice steady. As devoid of emotion as he can. “I didn’t want to leave.”

“What d’you mean _leave?”_

Castiel sighs. “I mean that once something breaks and stops working, you throw it out. After I left before and you didn’t stop me...I thought maybe you were just doing that. Throwing me out. I tried to tell myself that I didn’t deserve that. And when you said you forgive me, I realized that you didn’t know I was...not working in the first place.” He closes his eyes, not mentioning the other times he thought Dean and others were doing the same.

“Cas…” Dean says softly, but he says nothing else. Castiel continues.

“And as much as I appreciate you apologizing and forgiving me, I’ve thought about it, recently, and I’ve realized that maybe you’re right. I’m always what goes wrong.” He forces a small laugh. “If we win this, somehow, it won’t be because of me. It will be because of you and Sam’s bravery, and because of Jack. I don’t have a part to play here, the same way a damaged tool has no part to play in fixing something.” He swallows. “Because it’s broken. _I’m_ broken. No one cares, which is alright, I think.” He opens his eyes and looks up at Dean. “You helped me realize that, too.”

A deadly silence fills Castiel’s ears as Dean’s eyes stare into his. It lasts several moments, and Castiel prepares himself for the worst. Had it been any other day, he knows he most likely wouldn’t have told Dean a single word of what he had just said, but tonight was one of the bad nights. Worse than most other bad nights.

“I never meant…” Dean starts, but then trails off. He looks down, and Castiel looks to the side. “You still remember that I said that?”

Castiel looks at him, but he still won’t meet Castiel’s eyes. “I’m a celestial being, I have exceptional memory.”

Dean nods slightly, eyebrows knitting together. “Look, man, I didn’t mean to say that. I didn’t mean to say any of that, I-”

“I know, Dean, you’ve already apologized. You were angry. It’s understandable. People get angry at broken things.”

“You’re not fucking broken.” Dean’s eyes meet Castiel’s again. Castiel is certain his heart stops this time. “Don’t you say that. I don’t care about your stupid powers. I know I acted like that’s _all_ I care about, but I _don’t_ , man. I don’t, and I-”

“You don’t need to lie.”

“I’m not lying, Cas! I’m-”

“I’m useless, Dean, you don’t need to keep me around anymore.”

“Would you _shut the fuck up and listen to me?!”_

Castiel goes quiet at that, pressing his lips into a thin line.

“You’re one of the best things that’s ever happened to me, and yeah, your angel mojo was great and real useful at times, but that’s _not_ why I kept you around.” Dean shakes his head. “It was at first, okay? But it’s not anymore. It hasn’t been for a while. I...I keep you around because you’re my family, man. You’re the best friend I’ve ever had, and I know I’ve said that before, but I’m gonna say it again.” His hand reaches out to grab Castiel’s arm again. “You’re family, Cas.”

Castiel takes a deep breath. “I’m broken,” he repeats, because he doesn’t know what else to say. “Look at me, I’m broken.” He’s letting his wings manifest physically before either of them can say another word. Dean steps back, and he is staring. His eyes are wide, and his mouth hangs open slightly. He stares for a good minute or so, before he looks Castiel in the eye and puts both his hands on his shoulders. He then pulls him into a slightly rough hug, and what he says next cancels out the reminders in Castiel’s head. If only for a moment.

“Nobody cares that you're broken, Cas. You’re still family.”

**Author's Note:**

> i am aware that there are a few tiny inconsistencies with canon, but let's pretend there isn't. i hope you enjoyed that, kudos and comments are always appreciated <3 have a lovely day/night!!


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